


Confidence and Iodide

by Deannie



Series: Many Happy Returns [7]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's okay to open your present early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confidence and Iodide

**Author's Note:**

> This is extremely long for this series. I blame Vin. And Ezra. But especially Nathan, because it's his birthday.
> 
> And yes, this is the end. Sorry! Seven birthdays for seven brothers and all that. Thank you all for your kudos and comments and support--you are wonderful!

Vin pushed open the batwing doors of the saloon in Watsonville, looked around the dusty interior and sighed. Looked like the place had seen some excitement recently—the clientele was buzzing in that bordering on hysterical way they tended to right after a brawl. A new bartender—one Vin didn’t recognize from their many visits to the town so close to Four Corners—was busy trying to put a poker table back together. Looked like a lost cause to Vin.

“Guessing you might’ve seen a fancy gambler around?” he asked quietly, scaring the man, who jumped about five feet at the sound of his voice. Definitely new. Needed to get used to barroom brawls if he was gonna make it out here. “Kind of plum colored jacket, southern drawl?”

The bartender snorted. “Jail.”

Vin nodded. He’d figured. “Locked up or locking up?” If Ezra got himself thrown in jail, there was going to be hell to pay. They needed to get home.

“Locking up. He and Sheriff Pickens are taking care of the guy what broke my table.” A shade of surprise colored his voice. “Who the hell would’ve thought he’d be a lawman?” He raked Vin with a suspicious glare, and Vin knew he was taking in the long hair, the buckskin, the “Injun” look about him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Lawman,” Vin replied, smiling meanly at the man’s shock and sudden sweating. Paid to _expand men’s expectations,_ as Ezra would say. “What happened?”

“Not rightly sure.” He gave up on the table and sighed, wiping his hands. “One minute they was all having a nice game of cards, the next there’s fists flying and guns drawn and then this slick looking businessman is flat on his back and my table’s in pieces!” He smiled suddenly despite his irritation at the damage. “Lawman had a right sweet little pistol trained on the guy.”

“Knows how to use it, too. Might keep that in mind next time we come to town,” Vin offered, grinning at the worried look the bartender gave him. Poor guy. He’d learn.

Vin tipped his hat and headed over to the jail. Ezra was just walking out, straightening his frilly cuffs so he was as dandified as he should be. Seemed to be free of holes, so Vin figured it was just a regular old dust up—until he saw a look of relief in his friend’s eyes. Like he’d dodged a bullet somehow.

“Mr. Tanner,” Ezra hailed him, a smile blooming and wiping away the worrisome look. Black eye was blooming, too, but Ezra didn’t seem to mind much. “I expect you went looking for me at the saloon?”

Vin nodded. “New bartender ain’t too happy with you,” he scolded. “Done broke his poker table.”

Ezra snorted. “He’ll learn.”

The two made their way toward the hotel as Vin nodded his agreement. “What happened?”

“A difference of opinion regarding the ace of spades.” The explanation didn’t ring quite right. Simple cheating didn’t usually set Ezra to pounding on a man—or to drawing his gun. Ezra caught Vin’s doubtful look. “The one up _his_ sleeve, not mine.” He sniffed, seeing Vin still didn’t believe him. “And for the record, he drew first.”

Vin weren’t going to get the story out of him. Could see it in his eyes. The guy was in jail anyway, so as long as it didn’t present a danger to any of them, he figured Ezra could keep another secret—Lord knew he had enough of them. “Didn’t say nothing,” he muttered, a smile on his lips.

“You never have to, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra replied, slapping him lightly on the back and showing off his gold tooth. “Your looks speak volumes.”

 

JD was hanging out in the foyer of the hotel, reading through a fancy book. Vin wondered if it was his or one Ezra or Josiah might’ve loaned him. Probably Ezra—seemed like half the town had a book of his they was borrowing. For a man who kept his money in his boot, he couldn’t keep his books in his room to save his life.

“Hey guys!” JD rose to greet them, his eyes popping. “Lord, Ezra, that’s some shiner!”

Ezra looked around for their fourth. “You should see the other man, JD,” he returned. “Where, pray tell, is our Mr. Jackson? I feel a need to be moving on from our little stopover.” Yup. Still nervous.

“He’s talking to the doc,” JD said, putting a piece of paper in his book to mark his place. “Should be right back—doc said he had more of them journals Nathan’s always reading. Said he’d loan him a few books on surgery, too.”

Doc Rawlings was a fine old coot. Thought Nathan had the makings of a hell of a surgeon in him and encouraged him whenever he could. Vin figured it was good for Nathan to have somebody official telling him he was doing good, instead of just the saps he spent all his time sewing up.

JD bounced on his heels, looking at Ezra. “Speaking of Nathan… Did you get it?”

Ezra sighed. “Mr. Dunne, why must you malign my character by asking such questions?” He grinned suddenly and Vin almost laughed. Ezra was having just as much fun with the upcoming festivities as the rest of them were. “I have it secured in my saddlebags,” he assured them. “Got a fine price for it, too.”

“Fine enough we get some money back?” Vin asked with a grin of his own. Damn, this birthday was going be the best yet. Nathan’d go crazy when he saw their present for him—cost more than he made in three or four months. Probably even more than that. Ezra being Ezra, he just told the other five the amount they’d have to pitch in. Vin had an idea that Ezra’s ante was something higher than that, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t rib him some.

Ignoring the question, Ezra cleared his throat. “I suggest we all repair to our rooms and retrieve our belongings. Maker’s Glen should be easily achievable by nightfall, and I, for one, could use a dip in its restorative pool.” As usual, he didn’t bother to wait for answers, just headed up to the room him and Vin was sharing. Vin snorted at the annoyed look on JD’s face.

“You ever think he thinks _he’s_ in charge here?” JD asked, mock angry. Vin noticed he headed for the stairs himself, though. As ordered. Kid hated to admit it, but he’d follow just about any of them into Hell if they asked.

“Reckon he wouldn’t think so if you didn’t jump to every time he made his decisions,” Vin drawled softly as they hit the top of the stairs. He ignored JD’s huff and slipped into his room, where Erza’d already got his own stuff mostly packed. Vin never did unpack since they’d spent just the one night here—didn’t need to do much more than drop his razor in his pack and the two of them were headed back downstairs.

They’d planned to leave at one o’clock anyway, so Ezra wasn’t really being all that bossy. Just wanted to get on the road and home. He knew Ezra’d want to take it easy getting going in the morning, but even so, they’d get to Four Corners well before sundown tomorrow. Nathan’s birthday wasn’t for another two days.

Vin ignored the voice in the back of his head that assured him something was bound to happen to delay ‘em. Sounded like Ezra, and who ever listened to him?

 

Maker’s Glen weren’t properly on the way to Four Corners from Watsonville, but it was one of Ezra’s favorite way stations when he knew he could afford the extra four hours it tacked onto the trip home. He and Vin had stopped here last month, and Vin had to admit the place was worth taking two days to make a one-day trip.

The small lake lay in a depression that protected it from the winds that blew so hard across this stretch of desert. It fed the growth of a little forest of scrub oak that lay on the south side of it, spilling over the top of the ridge above the depression. There were a few clearings that made perfect campsites, and by mutual agreement, the four of them set up in the clearing on the ridge that was nearest the trailhead south of the lake.

The water was bordered on the west, north, and east by boulder strewn cliff walls, but on the south there was a more reasonable slope down, the trail forested and cool. A huge slab of granite formed a natural sort of dock at the base of the trail, perfect for sunning and drying off after a swim—were even screened off from the woods behind it by a scattering of man-sized boulders.

Was damn near too pretty a place to be dropped into this dusty territory, that was for sure, and they determined to enjoy it, planning their departure for mid-morning the next day. Nathan joked that that ought to get them home in time for Ezra to “clean out at least a few pockets before the saloon closed.”

Vin went off hunting for dinner while the others set up camp and was unsurprised to find JD and Ezra gone when he got back and Nathan sitting, reading a book. It struck him maybe Nathan didn’t know how to swim. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man in the water. He shrugged it off—weren’t none of his business—and set about cleaning his catch.

 

“Ezra, I ain’t never known someone to get in as much trouble as you do,” Nathan declared good-naturedly a couple of hours later, turning the spits for the rabbits so they could cook the other side. “Put you in damn near any town, and somebody’s gonna take a shot at you.”

“As long as their aim is as abysmal as Mr. Parker’s, Mr. Jackson, they are welcome to try.” He grinned, rubbing his towel over his soaking wet hair. “The good taxpayers of New Mexico Territory pay for my bullets, so I have no disinclination toward engaging the occasional malefactor.”

Disinclination, huh? Vin snorted. Hell if that man didn’t just make up words, sometimes. And there was still that lack of detail about his run in with this Parker fella. Didn’t sit right, but Vin didn’t push it. Just niggled at him, was all.

“Dinner’s nearly done,” Nathan announced, choosing to change the subject instead of getting in an argument he knew he’d never win. He looked around. “The hell’s JD at?”

Ezra shrugged. “I left him belly up in the sun by the lake. For all I know, he’s fallen asleep there.” He looked at the hard glares on Vin and Nathan’s faces and sighed. “I expect I should go retrieve him.”

Vin hid a smile. “I expect you should.”

 

Vin took his own swim just before the sun started chasing the stars from the sky, heading for the water the minute Ezra took over watch for him. It weren’t that he was shy. He just didn’t see no reason to show himself off in front of God and everybody. He caught a few fish before he come out—they were slow with the night and easy to lay hands on—and he climbed up from the lakeside as the predawn was starting to cast gray light over the trees, breakfast in hand.

Ezra was quietly shuffling his cards in the near darkness, laying them out in patterns and scooping them up again. It was something that’d fascinated JD the first few times the kid had seen him do it, wondering how he could see the cards clearly in the dark of a campfire-lit night, until he realized that the deck was marked.

“You don’t use that deck when you play with _us_ , do you, Ezra?” he’d asked, casting a suspicious look at the shadow of the gambler sitting across from him at the fire.

“Of course not, Mr. Dunne,” he’d muttered, shuffling again in the night. “I hardly need to.”

Vin smiled at the memory and plopped himself and his catch down by the fire, nodding to his friend.

“I hope you intend to clean those yourself,” Ezra murmured, wrinkling his nose. “There’s coffee, if you’d like.”

Vin poured himself a cup, putting the pot back on the edge of the fire when Ezra shook his head at a cup for him. They sat in quiet companionship for a while before Vin decided his curiosity had had enough.

“So what really happened with that Parker fella in Watsonville?”

“It’s as a told you, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra murmured, setting out the cards in a diamond pattern without looking up. “A difference of opinion regarding the expected composition of a standard deck of cards.”

Vin shook his head. “Something more to it,” he said quietly. “You had a look to you when you came out of the jail—like you was lucky you was in one piece.”

Ezra sighed, looking up at him. “Mr. Parker simply had a rather… intense… look about him. A man who does not take being crossed lightly.”

Vin nodded. “Think he could be trouble?”

“No more so than any other disgruntled loser,” Ezra assured him. “Thankfully, I have on my person the majority of his money. As he is a traveling salesman, merely passing through, it’s unlikely that he’ll make bail quickly.”

“And he don’t know where you’re from?”

Ezra’s gold tooth flashed in the growing light. “I’m afraid I neglected to mention that bit of information during our game.”

 

Breakfast was followed by another dip in the lake by Ezra and JD. Vin figured they was both going to be mighty uncomfortable on the ride home—wouldn’t be time to dry off proper and sitting wet in a saddle weren’t nice.

And they was taking a hell of a long time about it, too.

“Where the hell are those two?” Nathan groused, packing a big book back into his saddlebag. Vin had looked over the reading man’s shoulder at the pictures—mostly innards, it looked like. Wasn’t pretty, but he reckoned it was important for a surgeon to know where everything’s at inside.

“I am right here, Mr. Jackson,” Ezra announced, his wet drawers sticking to his legs where they stuck out of the blanket he had wrapped around his waist. “I expect Mr. Dunne will be up shortly, as I reminded him that we were to be on our way soon.” He headed for his saddlebag, pulling out fresh drawers and clothes and disappearing into the woods behind them. Vin grinned. Ezra was pretty much the only other one of them that bothered to go off and change in private. Hell, Buck’d walk around naked if anybody let him.

“He better get moving,” Nathan muttered. “Want to get back in time to send a telegram to Doc Rawlings ‘bout this book he give me.” His mind was working overtime, was plain to see. “Don’t know if I rightly understand the way ‘nerve bundles’ work.”

Vin was damn sure he didn’t.

Ezra came back, dressed to the nines as always, and started strapping on his guns and fixing up his saddlebags. The three of them broke camp and had their horses tacked up and ready to go, and there was still no sign of JD.

“Probably fell asleep in the sun again,” Vin figured. He nudged Ezra. “You’d best get down there and wake him up.”

“Why me?” Ezra sighed.

“Your idea to stop at a swimming hole on the way home,” Vin replied, as if that explained everything.

Ezra huffed angrily, but he went. Vin just grinned at Nathan and followed after him.

 

The path down to the lake wound through the trees and rocks, and there was a lookout of sorts a ways down the little ridge, where you could see the whole valley. JD lay asleep by the water, in only his drawers, relaxed as could be.

Vin watched as Ezra picked his way quickly down the trail toward the man spread out on the warm slab below them. His irritation was clear in every step.

“Mr. Dunne!” Ezra called loudly when he was halfway down the hill. “I believe I made it clear—“

Vin’s eye caught a flash of glass, a glint of metal. Far side of the lake, halfway up. Damn!

“JD! Ezra! Across the way!” His call held enough urgency that both men reacted in an instant. JD leapt up, looking around as sleep fled him. The whistle of a bullet hitting granite, the crack of a rifle shot, and another glint of metal all came at once about a second later. Vin cursed while Ezra jumped the last six feet down to the slab. Was probably going to barrel into JD and cover him as best he could. Vin kept trying to see where the shooter’d got to.

No telling where JD’d stashed his guns, but Ezra had his pistols at least. His Remington snapped off a couple of shots, but aiming a pistol at that distance was useless. Even with Ezra’s skill, each shot was a yard off at least, and Vin was sure now that the man would be on the move. He chanced a look below him, and saw Ezra and JD tucked behind the screen of boulders, heading toward him and the path. Didn’t seem to be no holes in either of them.

Another bullet whined as it hit, this time glancing off the boulders, and Vin caught sight of the gunman again, working his way east—probably hoping to cut them off before they could get to the ridge and their rifles. Vin whistled sharp, and, confident he was hidden from the rifleman’s view, he gestured to his friends that he’d circle around closer and try to get a clear shot with his mare’s leg. JD nodded, and Ezra pointed further into the treeline, then up. Vin leaned out carefully and saw a rockfall that the two men could probably climb easily. It would keep them protected from the shots across the way, anyway.

With a nod of his head, Vin disappeared into the woods, working his way around the top edge of the ridge, watching for the gunman. He hoped Nathan’d heard the shots and thought to bring a rifle with him as he came to see what was going on.

He about thought he’d missed the shooter altogether when he heard another shot from farther west and a shout of pain from JD. God damn sniper had faked east and then headed back the other way—giving the bastard a clear shot at that damn rockfall, no doubt. Vin started sprinting along the ridge, looking for sign of the man, all the while hoping JD was all right. That bastard was going down hard if Vin had anything to say about it.

Turned out he didn’t.

He had just caught sight of a dark citified suit and a bowler hat when the man crumpled to the ground about a hundred yards from him—the sound of Ezra’s rifle banged across the pool straight after. Vin waited a long minute, watching the unmoving body.

“He’s down! Bringing him in!” Vin shouted finally, resisting the urge to add _don’t shoot me._ He hoped there’d be joking later.

“I shall endeavor to hold my fire, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra called back. “All’s well here.”

Vin smiled at that. Trust Ezra to know what was foremost in his mind. Would’ve been foremost in Ezra’s mind, most likely, if he was in Vin’s position.

He got up close and kicked the rifle out of the man’s hands. Hell, the fella looked like a banker. Didn’t look familiar at all. Unfortunately, he had two inches and probably forty pounds on Vin, which was going to make this tougher than it should be. The bullet had grazed the man’s skull pretty good, knocking the stupid hat right off his head. He wasn’t waking up to help Vin out any time soon.

“Shit,” Vin muttered. He grabbed the man’s arms and started dragging.

 

 

It took Vin too damn long to get the fool back to camp, and he plodded into a nest of tension that had him instantly on edge. He dropped the gunman and tied him to a tree before making his way across camp where JD leaned against a log, his face a ghastly gray, his eyes terrified. Nathan knelt beside him, one hand on the kid’s chest, while Ezra stood above them, on guard and too scared to realize there was nothing he could guard ‘em from.

“Just try to breathe real shallow for me, JD,” Nathan was coaching, his tone caring and stressed and worried all at once.

“Can’t!” JD’s tiny response had Vin on his knees next to the younger man in seconds.

“What’s going on?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from JD and looking up at Ezra. “This sure as hell don’t look like ‘all’s well’.”

He regretted his sharp tone instantly, as Ezra ran a hand through his hair, his panicked gaze never leaving JD’s face. Now Vin had a chance to look at the kid, he saw a god-awful black bruise on the right side of his bare chest. Didn’t see no blood, though. He listened to Ezra’s words as Nathan kept coaching JD to breathe.

“We were nearly to the top of the rockfall. JD slipped as a bullet hit near him and he landed hard. Neither of us thought anything of it until we arrived back here. I took my rifle up and sighted the bastard, and by the time I returned, JD was…”

Vin nodded. He’d figured Nathan hadn’t even heard him come up—figured he hadn’t heard anything, he was so focused on JD—but as JD closed his eyes and seemed to drift into a kind of trance as he tried to breathe one more breath, Nathan spoke quietly. “You keep breathing, JD,” he said, real comforting. “I’ll be right back with something to bind up that rib.”

He led Vin and Ezra off toward the fire, rummaging through his saddlebag and coming up with a bag of herbs and a roll of bandages. His eyes were pained and resigned all at once.

“Rock broke a rib,” he explained shortly. “Tore the lung pretty good.”

Shit. Vin’s heart froze and he heard Ezra mutter something foul. A man’s worst nightmare when he busted a rib or two—if it got as bad as this, weren’t nothing you could do except wait ‘til your lungs filled up with blood.

“There’s nothing you can do for him?” Ezra asked, but Vin could see it was just a denial of the situation.

Funny thing was, Nathan answered it like it was a real question. “If we had the right equipment…” He licked his lips, seeming real unsure of himself. “Doc Rawlings gave me one of his medical journals a while back. Talked about a new procedure to try to let the blood drain out when a man had blood filling up around his lungs….” He looked around them and shook his head. Vin could see in his eyes that Nathan was feeling like he weren’t good enough to do this job. “He’d die of infection after, if I done it out here. Don’t matter none anyway, I ain’t got nothing but my knives and my probe.”

“What would you need?” Ezra asked, looking Nathan in the eyes with a trust Vin was sure Nathan didn’t think he’d earned. The gambler’s voice was gentle, but with a tension in it that spoke of action, not growing grief. Vin knew exactly what he was thinking, suddenly. If only they had everything… He headed for Ezra’s saddlebag.

“Don’t matter,” Nathan insisted, defeated before they even got going. “I ain’t got—“

“What would you need?” Ezra repeated sharply. “What would you do and what would you need, because if we can do anything at all, we are _not_ going to let that young man drown in his own blood here in the middle of nowhere.”

The relentless words sparked something in Nathan, just like Ezra must’ve planned. “I’d need a whole surgical kit, likely. Scalpel, aspiration needles, tubing and fine suture—couldn’t be catgut. That’s cause infection for sure….” His thoughts caught him up and he stood there figuring. Vin nodded to Ezra and handed him the bag he’d retrieved.

It was a lot like the one Vin’d seen at Doc Rawlings’ place, black leather with a clasp and handle at the top. When they were discussing what to get for Nathan, Ezra’d brought up the idea of this—told them all that the doctor’s traveling kit was a big step up from the old instruments Nathan’d gotten from one of the Union docs he’d served with during the war. Said Nathan deserved the “trappings of a proper physician, though society denies him the moniker.” He’d ordered it through the mercantile in Watsonville, to make sure Nathan wouldn’t find out about it.

Ezra shoved it into Nathan’s hands.

“I am assured the thread is silk. I have no idea what an aspiration needle is, but I’m told this was as complete as a traveling surgical kit could be.”

Nathan was having problems breathing himself as he opened the black satchel and fell to his knees so he could dig through the supplies it was almost overflowing with. He looked up at Ezra and then Vin in shock. Vin could feel time running out in the tiny quick breaths JD was panting behind them.

“Nathan,” he called softly, shaking the man from his surprise.

Nathan took a deep breath, a smile breaking out as he clearly decided not to question, but just to look at what he had. “I got everything I need. Hell, there’s even pipettes in here to….” He sat on his heels for a minute, a tin of something medical forgotten in his hand. He was thinking fast as wind in that way that made Vin wonder all that the man could have done if he hadn’t been born a slave.

“I need boiling water. Lots of it,” he commanded, jumping to his feet. “One of you is going to have to ride home—now. He ain’t going be traveling any way but a wagon and I need to get him back to the clinic soon as I can after I do this.” He shook his head, running a hand over his scalp in worry. “Damn. Ain’t no way to get it clean here!”

Vin caught his arm when he would have repeated the gesture. “You worked in worse in the war, Nathan, and you know it.” He squeezed the limb in comfort. “I’ll get the water to boiling.”

Ezra was already setting out the blankets to make a place where Nathan at least weren’t operating right on dirt. “I’ll ride,” he offered. Vin’d already figured to ask him to, so it was good he volunteered. “Peso still isn’t one hundred percent after that bruise last week and—“

“—and Chaucer’s faster than him, anyway,” Vin finished. He set both the pans on the fire, filling them with the contents of their canteens. He threw the empty vessels at his friend. “Fill these in the lake before you go.”

Ezra nodded, gathering them up. As he turned, he caught sight of the sniper for the first time, and froze, the canteens falling back to the ground as he swore softly.

“Ezra?”

The gambler didn’t move, just stared at the guy.

“Ezra, what the hell is it?” Vin raised his voice, causing Nathan to look up from his preparations.

“Parker,” Ezra finally whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He cleared it brutally. “That’s George Parker.” He looked over at JD, who was looking even worse now, then met Vin’s eyes, guilt and pain screaming across the space between them. _He was aiming for me,_ Ezra’s eyes confessed. _JD is dying because of_ me _._

 Vin shook his head, standing up and grabbing the canteens, shoving them into Ezra’s hands and pushing him toward the trailhead. “Get the water, Ezra,” he commanded sharply, trying to snap Ezra out of it the same way the gambler had Nathan. “JD ain’t got time for this.”

Ezra straightened suddenly, nodded his head, and ran like the Devil himself was after him. Vin looked at Parker, still unconscious from the glancing head shot. He had thought to send the prisoner home with Ezra—get him out of the way. God knew Vin wouldn’t have time to deal with him if he came to during Nathan’s miracle working.

Nathan must’ve had one eye on him. “Tie that bastard up tight, Vin. Taking him to town would only slow Ezra down. And I ain’t gonna spare you for fooling with him if he comes to while we’re working on JD.”

Vin shook himself. He grabbed the traveling salesman—if that was really what he was—and retied him, wrists bound, arms tight to his sides, whole body tied to a tree with the rope round the trunk twice for good measure. He stared at the head wound that had bled an awful lot, then shook his head again sharply. Bastard wasn’t getting away with this—didn’t matter if he never woke up.

Ezra raced back up from the lake, canteens wet in his grip, eyes raw and wild. He dropped all of them at Vin’s feet and headed for Chaucer.

“I’ll be back as quickly as possible, Mr. Jackson,” he promised, his voice thick and angry. “Do you need me to bring anything else?”

Nathan was silent for a long moment, and Vin could see his next words cut into Ezra’s soul as cleanly as that shiny new scalpel would’ve. “Buck,” he said simply. “Might need him.”

 _To say goodbye._ Hell. Vin wiped at his suddenly wet eyes and picked up one of the canteens as Ezra mounted his horse.

“Hey Ezra!”

His friend looked up and Vin sighed at the guilt in his eyes. Guilt could make a man crazy, careless. Stupid.

He threw the canteen and watched Ezra catch it on reflex before shaking his head. “I won’t need it,” he said coldly. “There won’t be time for such comforts.” He dropped it to the ground and sped off, quicker than Vin had ever seen Chaucer move before.

Damn.

“Vin, I need you now,” Nathan called.

Vin looked over and saw that Nathan had been busy while he’d been dealing with Ezra’s revelation. The blankets were spread as flat as Nathan could make them and the new doctoring supplies were laid out. A bottle of carbolic was there, as well as something else that looked dark inside the brown bottle.

“Set the needles, that syringe, the glass pipe, and the tubing in boiling water and leave ‘em there. Then help me move JD over here.”

Vin was horrified to find that JD was awake, panting his last, his face getting grayer and grayer. He prayed the younger man would pass out before Nathan put knife to skin, but he very much feared he wouldn’t.

“JD,” Nathan whispered gently, mouth right up to JD’s ear, though loud enough that Vin could hear every word. “I’m gonna cut deep, but I’ll be quick. You hold on and don’t move, you hear? I’m gonna do my best.”

JD’s eyes, slitted against the pain, found Vin’s as he nodded the tiniest bit.

Nathan sat back a little, looking at the bruise on JD’s chest and pressing his fingers gently along the rib just above it. He handed Vin the scalpel. “Put it in the fire for a minute. Gotta keep this as clean as we can.” When Vin turned back from heating the blade, he was shocked to see JD’s side painted with a rust-colored liquid.

“Iodide solution,” Nathan explained. “Supposed to help fight infection. Never had none before, but I seen it in the journals.”

Ignoring Vin’s dubious look—how the hell could something that looked like dirt be clean?—Nathan held the knife over the rib he’d been looking at, angled up above it and then around to the side some. “Hold him, Vin,” he commanded. “You don’t let him move a muscle or this is all gonna be for nothing.”

Vin took a deep breath and held on for JD’s life.

 

“I can’t believe it.”

Vin almost laughed. Fifth time Nathan’d said that. Would’ve thought JD’s living and breathing would’ve made him a believer.

“You did good, Nathan,” Vin said, watching his friend study the book in front of him and manage to keep one eye on JD at the same time.

It was amazing what a difference a few hours could make.

JD looked flushed, and they were both aware that he was already running a fever, but he didn’t look nowhere near death’s door anymore. His chest rose and fell, the contraption that saved his life sticking out of his side, bobbing obscenely.

Vin never wanted to see something like that again. When Nathan had made his cut, JD hadn’t even moved, except to open his eyes wider. Vin wasn’t sure if it was surprise or pain. He’d damn sure tried to move when Nathan stuck that glass tube in his chest though, and the wet popping sound of the thing going in had made Vin sick just to hear. The hiss of air it made right after had him swallowing bile, but he was surprised to see Nathan actually smile.

“That good?” How could a sound like that be good? Sounded like he’d punched a hole right into JD’s lung. Weird thing was, JD’s breathing seemed a little better already. Not good, but he was getting more air, anyway.

“Means some of his problem is just air in his chest, collapsing the lung—it’ll let him breathe quicker. If it was all blood…” Nathan didn’t finish, and Vin was damn glad of it. He looked down and saw that JD had finally passed out.

Then the healer had fit the rubber tubing to the end of the glass pipe. He fit the syringe to the end of the tubing and carefully drew the plunger up until a line of blood and… whatever… came up the tube and started filling the syringe. Made Vin wish he was passed out, too. Was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen.

And it didn’t seem like it was going to stop. Even when Nathan’d filled the syringe to the top and pulled it out, emptying the sick stuff into the fire and dropping the instrument back in the boiling water, the stuff kept coming, dripping slowly out the tubing and onto the blanket.

“It gonna keep leaking like that?” he’d asked, easing up his hold on JD as Nathan started sewing the cut around the glass pipe. “Jesus, Nathan! You leaving the damn thing _in him_?”

Nathan had nodded. “Article said the tube needs to stay in a few days. Gotta drain it all out—give the lung a chance to heal.”

Vin had had a hard time swallowing that, but he couldn’t dispute that JD was breathing a whole lot better. Hell, that he was breathing at all was a miracle.

“He gonna live?” he’d asked, knowing Nathan didn’t really have the answer, but needing to ask the question.

Nathan had grinned, which Vin thought was a damn stupid thing to do right then. The healer looked almost giddy as he finished sewing the last bit closed and started winding cotton bandage around the wound to anchor the tube. Vin figured maybe Nathan wouldn’t be quite so quick to doubt himself after this.

“He’s still breathing,” Nathan had told him, serious again. “We’ll see how he does while we wait for Ezra to get back.”

Thoughts of Ezra brought back thoughts of Parker. Vin had looked across the camp at the tree-bound man. He was still unconscious. Looking at the sky, Vin judged it’d been nearly six hours since he’d been shot.

“What about that one?” he’d asked, nodded toward the prisoner. “Think _he’ll_ live?”

Nathan had shrugged. “Don’t rightly care.” He dropped the bloody surgical instruments into one of the pans Vin had kept boiling. “I’ll check on him when I got time.”

 

Nathan had checked Parker out quickly a little while later and grunted that he seemed like he was breathing fine and the only thing they could do was wait to see If he woke up.

JD was doing okay, as far as things went. At least he was quiet now. He’d started to wake up once, and Vin figured Nathan wasn’t letting him do it again soon.

About an hour after Nathan had finished sewing him up, JD’s eyes had snapped open and he’d immediately started keening in his throat, panting so fast that the dripping end of the tubing jerked around next to him.

“Hold him, Vin!” the healer had called, turning to his surgical kit and pulling out a bottle. “Can’t let him pull that tube out.”

After that first syringe full of blood, the tube had been dripping sort of yellowish gunk mixed with some blood, but not so much that Nathan’d been worried. Now, the tube was leaking more steadily and the stuff was more red than anything else.

“Easy JD,” Nathan was murmuring, pouring laudanum down him and watching the glass pipe carefully as JD gasped and whined. His eyes rolled in his head—blind terror and pain mixed together, shining forth. Vin was sure the kid didn't hear a word Nathan said to him.

“Nathan?” The tube had given a little gush of bright red, and Vin was scared all over again, hoping their miracle wasn’t going to be short-lived.

He’d kept his voice as calm as he could, but the healer could hear the worry stark in it. He shook his head, soothing JD with a hand on his forehead as the younger man slid back into the deep. “The blood’s gotta come out, Vin,” he assured him quietly. “He just got it all moving with the way he’s breathing. Probably good in the long run.”

Hadn’t looked good, but at least, drugged to the gills, JD was still breathing.

A while later, Vin looked down at his prisoner and marveled that Parker could do so much damage without his bullet even striking flesh.

Were obvious Ezra’s bullet had done some damage, too. Parker was breathing just fine, but his face was pale and he still hadn’t stirred. Vin slapped his face a few times, hoping to wake him.

“Parker!” he barked, slapping him a little harder. “Parker, wake the hell up!”

He didn’t get a response. Hell, maybe there wasn’t going to be a response. Vin’d seen men tapped on the head by a bullet grazing just the right spot who’d lived the rest of their lives drooling and mumbling nonsense.

Couldn’t work himself up to caring too much about that. Ezra would be right pissed not to be able to take another chunk out of the man, though.

Vin knew Ezra’d be headed back, riding poor Chaucer harder than he should, riding himself even harder. Which was just stupid—wasn’t like he pulled the trigger or tripped JD. Parker was going to pay for his crime and JD was going to live and that was all there was to that.

Which was damn easy to say since it weren’t him.

He stretched hard and turned away from the man tied to the tree, taking in the scene across camp. JD was silent and still, just breathing. Nathan was emptying out his doctor’s bag, taking an unguarded minute to enjoy every roll of bandage and piece of metal. Weren’t exactly how Vin pictured it would be when Nathan got his present, but it was worth it to see the kid’s horribly bruised chest rise and fall.

“Sure do look official with that,” Vin teased, coming to sit on the other side of JD from the healer.

Nathan grinned in wonder. “I still don’t understand what Ezra was doing with this. It saved JD’s life, though, that’s for damn sure.”

“ _You_ saved JD’s life, Nathan,” Vin corrected. “Ezra just had the tools handy.” He smiled big. “Happy birthday, Doc—or, you know, many happy returns.”

Nathan stared at him for a long minute, then chuckled and shook his head in wonderment. “Damn gambler. You all in on this?”

Vin nodded, turning to busy himself at the fire, making coffee. Should be another couple of hours at least before a wagon could get there, but it was getting on toward supper time. He hoped Nathan’d make do with jerky—he was too tired to go hunting just now.

“We all figured you’d be a doctor by now if you was somewhere different, so you should have the same equipment.” He chuckled. “Well, Buck just figured you should have the best so’s you could sew him up right.”

Nathan chuckled too, but it died off quick. He stared at JD a long minute. “I still can’t believe that worked. You know he ain’t out of the woods, right?”

Vin shrugged his understanding. “He’s still out of the grave, though.”

Nathan nodded, checking JD again. “Gotta add a little more suction, I think,” he said, washing off the end of the tubing and grabbing for the syringe.

Vin felt bile rising again and rose and grabbed his rifle, suddenly not tired at all. “I’m going to see about dinner.”

 

Turned out Chaucer could shave more time off a run than Vin thought. Buck and Ezra galloped into camp just as Vin was climbing back up from the lake. He’d found a small warren of rabbits and some onions. Figured with the potatoes and such Ezra had in the saddlebags he’d left, he had enough to put together a good-sized stew for them all to eat while they got JD ready to go home.

He had to grin. He’d really thought for a while there that they’d be wrapping that boy’s body in a shroud.

Buck and Ezra must still’ve thought it. They leaped off their horses and fetched up next to Nathan, who gestured for them both to be quiet.

“He’s sleeping.”

Vin snorted. Kid was dosed so thick with laudanum, they could’ve come in guns blazing and not woke him up. Sleeping…

Ezra was having a hard time believing that. “He’s…” He put a hand out, touching JD’s left shoulder like he’d break him. “He’ll be all right?”

“He’s breathing, ain’t he?” Buck replied in a joy-filled whisper, his eyes full of a horror the smile on his face hadn’t swept away yet. He took JD’s hand and looked up at Nathan. “Thank you, Nathan.”

Nathan would’ve blushed. He was about to open his mouth when Ezra gasped.

“Nathan,” he drawled, stretching the name out doubtfully. “What… is _that_?”

Buck followed Ezra’s gaze and swore. They must’ve seen the tubing. “Good God, Nate! Not that I ain’t still as thankful as anything, but what the hell’d you do to him?”

Vin bent to clean his catch and grinned as Nathan started to explain. He looked up in surprise as Ezra stood up in the middle of it and faced the other end of camp. His eyes were still bleak, and the guilt in them wasn’t just going to go away because JD was still alive. He’d been hurt because of Ezra, and Vin knew how much his friend took that to heart. He knew what he’d be feeling if it was him.

“Have you talked to him yet?” The venom in Ezra’s question left no doubt he was talking about Parker.

Vin shrugged. “He ain’t been awake,” he explained. “You might’ve scrambled his brains a bit much.”

Ezra’s eyes grew colder—Vin hadn’t thought that was possible. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Ezra this out-of-control mad. “I think I’ll just wake him, then,” he said, sure as death. He stalked over to the tree, slapping Parker across the mouth hard enough to rock his head on his shoulders. “Open you eyes, you filthy bastard!”

Brown eyes opened slow, glaring dully up at him. A cruel smile spilt the broad face. “Well, if it isn’t our fancy little gambler,” Parker grated unsteadily, a trickle of blood trailing unnoticed from his lip.

Ezra went still and Vin dropped the rabbit he’d been skinning, knife in his hand as he came a little closer. He kept his distance, letting Ezra handle it but ready if the gambler was pushed too far. Wouldn’t take much, from the look in his eye.

Ezra knelt slowly, bringing himself eye to eye with the man who’d nearly killed a friend while aiming at _him_. “Surprised to see me?”

Parker shrugged then paled at the pain it obviously caused him. “Yeah, sort of.” He grinned again and Vin gripped his knife a little tighter. “Disappointed, too. Sorry I didn’t get off a couple more shots.”

“I’m sure you are,” Ezra purred, hand going to the gun at his hip. “You must be disappointed to have come all this way to kill the wrong man.”

“The wrong man?” He tried to look beyond Ezra. “What’d I do? Kill that damn Injun-lover by mistake? Damn—that long hair makes ‘em look the same in just their skivvies.” Parker looked too annoyed to be bluffing, and Vin suddenly had a thought.

“Jeb Parker.”

Ezra and Parker both looked up at him, one in complete confusion and the other in growing fury, seeing the Injun lover in question.

“He’s your brother?” Vin guessed.

“ _Was_ my brother, you son of a bitch!” Parker spat at him. “Jeb died in prison last month! Was on my way to take care of your damn sheriff when I heard he was coming through town back there, so I followed you all out here.” He spat again. “Bastard deserved a whole lot more than just a bullet!” He looked over at Ezra and sneered at the shock he saw there. “Oh, don’t you worry, fancy man. I would’ve been glad to put a bullet in you, too. Thieving stinking cheat.”

Ezra ignored him and sat back on his heels, confusion and anger and relief and worry making him shake a little. He looked at Vin, lost. “Who is Jeb Parker?”

“Snake who come through town when you were headed home from seeing your ma,” Buck offered, slinking up behind them all. “Tried a mine scam on some of our good townsfolk, but I guess you taught ‘em all pretty well how to spot one.” He crouched down next to Ezra, and Vin almost laughed at the wolf-mad smile he gave Parker. “Or maybe your brother was just a piss-poor excuse for a conman.”

“Like his brother, the piss-poor excuse for a killer,” Vin put in, enjoying this immensely.

“What the hell do you mean?” Parker barked it back, like he still had some balls. His head must’ve hurt too much for him to understand just how bad off he was here. Ezra’s eyes had been washed free of guilt, all right, but the anger in ‘em just grew into the empty space. Buck would’ve skinned the man alive, given half the chance—nobody messed with his little brother.

“I’m sorry to inform you that our illustrious sheriff is still in the land of the living,” Ezra told him, satisfaction dripping off every word. “Indeed, no bullet of yours even broke his skin. I’m certain he’ll take great delight in overseeing your hanging.”

Parker froze, showing his first fear. “My… my hanging? But you said I didn’t shoot him!”

Buck grinned. “Well, no, but attempted murder of a law officer can be a hanging offense… with the right judge.”

Vin couldn’t stand it any more and sauntered up, bloody knife still in his hand. “Lucky the local circuit court judge is a personal friend of JD’s.” He grinned at Parker as the man pissed himself. Might not have any balls, but the rest sure worked. “Don’t think he’ll have too much trouble conducting one of them bench trials.”

“Figure Chris might want to have a word with him before Judge Travis gets here, though, Vin,” Buck replied, just having a conversation. His eyes opened a little wider at the look of confusion on Parker’s face. “Chris Larabee?” He looked upset. Buck really was a ham. “You didn’t know he worked with JD?” He smacked Ezra lightly on the shoulder. “Damn, Ezra! Don’t nobody do their homework before they try to kill a man no more?”

“A lamentable lack of preparation to be sure,” Ezra drawled, sniffing and wrinkling his nose. He even cast a disgusted glance at Parker’s crotch. Vin hadn’t known a man could pale to a ghost and still blush—he was learning all kinds of things today.

“Chris might have something to say about you maligning one of his men, too,” Buck continued. Parker was gonna pass out here in a minute. “What’d he call you, Ezra? A ‘filthy lying cheat?’ was it?”

“You—you’re a lawman!?” Poor Parker.

“I believe the term was ‘thieving stinking cheat,’ Mr. Wilmington.” Ezra sighed, shaking his head. “A lack of wit to go with his lack of preparation.” Ezra was uncoiling now. Mad as hell still, but Vin could his urge to scream fading away.

Nathan appeared behind them all. Didn’t want to miss all the fun, probably. “This fool need to be seen?” he asked, sounding for all the world like he couldn’t care less about the answer.

“No, Doc,” Buck assured him, smile fixed and eyes never leaving Parker. “He’s just fine. Ain’t ya, Parker?”

Parker gulped loud and cowered, looking like he might lose more than just his water. Nathan, looking hard-bit and cold, Buck as slick and deadly as a rattler, Ezra full of fury and vengeance… They was damn terrifying when they wanted to be. Vin played his part and started digging at his nail with his knife. Scared the crap out of people when he did that, for some reason.

“I—I’m fine,” Parker assured Nathan, too terrified to look at him. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Good to hear it,” Nathan said. “Vin, why don’t you get dinner done? Wagon’s going take a while. Figure we can eat while we wait.” He turned his back on Parker without a second thought.

“You just sit tight, friend,” Buck told the broken man tied to the tree, patting him on the shoulder hard enough to leave bruises. “We’ll get you in to town for that trial. Don’t you worry.”

Vin and Ezra turned their backs and walked away.

“Feeling better, Ezra?” Vin asked, fighting a smile.

“Immeasurably, Mr. Tanner,” he replied, sounding lighter already. “I fear we may have to apologize to Josiah and Mr. Larabee when they arrive.” He looked back over his shoulder and Vin did the same. Lord, was Parker _crying_ now? “Mr. Parker will likely still be shaking. He’ll be little sport for them.”

“They’ll get their chance,” Vin assured him. “Judge Travis ain’t due back through town for another two weeks.”

Ezra sniffed. “Pity.”

Vin gave up fighting it and laughed.

 

 

Josiah and Chris made good time and supper was just ready when they got there. Nathan figured there was enough time for them all to eat quick before they loaded JD up and headed home. Sun’d be down by the time they got there, but the full moon would work in their favor and the trail between Maker’s Glen and Four Corners was a clear one.

Vin was surprised Chris didn’t go up like a vial of nitro when he saw JD. He didn’t even “talk” to Parker, though. Just had a seat and stared at JD’s face and listened, jaw working overtime and vein in his forehead pulsing away, as Nathan explained everything that happened.

Josiah, on the other hand, after listening and then praying over JD a minute, walked quietly up to Parker’s tree and crouched down in front of him, looking like one of them gargoyles Buck’d shown Vin in a travel book once. Nobody heard what he said except Parker, but it left the man in tears again, and Vin thought he heard Josiah mutter about how they’d better change the man’s drawers before he climbed into the wagon.

He had just come back to the rest of them and settled down next to Ezra and Nathan with a bowl of stew when JD woke up.

Vin’d seen it happen the first time, but the rest of them turned white at the sound of JD keening like a trapped wolf. Nathan dropped his stew and ran for the kid, soothing him quietly with a word as he poured a draught of laudanum down him. Vin joined him, holding the kid down so he wouldn’t move that damn tube. What the hell were they going to do if he woke up like this in the wagon?

JD settled once again, Vin and Nathan started to rise and go back to the fire, both freezing at what they saw. Nobody’d moved since JD started crying out—well, Ezra had dropped his bowl. Looked like he was gonna be sick, and Vin wouldn’t blame him. Buck was as white JD and shaking, and Josiah was muttering—probably a prayer. Chris just looked like he wanted to take something apart.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Buck grated, fists opening and closing around an imagined throat. Yep. Parker’d be lucky to last until Travis got around to trying the bastard. “Why’d he do that?”

Was still doing it, kind of. Even with the laudanum keeping him too out of it to move, JD had a shriek of pain, whisper quiet and unending, stuck in the back of his throat. Hell, maybe Vin was going to be sick before Ezra.

“Stay with him, Vin?” Nathan asked. Vin nodded, but Buck was suddenly at Nathan’s side, reaching out to clasp JD’s hand, and Nathan shrugged. “Watch he don’t move now, Buck,” he coached. “Make sure that drain don’t move none, either.”

“I got him, Nathan,” Buck whispered, tears in his voice.

Damn.

Vin went back to the fire for a minute and picked up his bowl. He put it back down almost as quick and stood up again, tossing the stew in the fire. “Ain’t hungry. Gonna see about getting things packed up.”

Ezra rose, too fast to be normal, and tossed his own uneaten stew. Vin hoped what his friend had eaten stayed down. “I believe I’ll accompany you, Mr. Tanner,” he murmured.

“Menial labor, Ezra?” Josiah rumbled, making Vin smile. Man was good at diffusing a situation.

“I believe I said I would ‘accompany’ him, Mr. Sanchez,” Ezra stated, all priss. Was getting himself back on an even keel quick, though.

“Don’t think he needs no one in a ‘supervisory position’ to load a wagon, Ezra,” Chris put in. “Oh, and Vin?” Vin looked back at him, but Chris was glaring at Parker across the fire. “There won’t be any space in the wagon for our friend over there.”

Ezra snorted. “A pity. I don’t believe Chaucer could double up after his long run earlier.”

“Peso’s still a little weak in that foot,” Vin offered, watching Parker as the man broke a little more.

“I was gonna use JD’s horse to pack in the supplies,” Nathan added. “Need some extra room in the wagon—it being so small and all. Figured Chris’d want to ride, and my horse is bigger.”

Josiah put in his two cents. “I ain’t taking him. The man smells. No control over himself, I fear.”

Buck looked up, pegging Parker with a glare more fierce than any he’d given him yet. “Looks like you’re walking, pardner.”

 

Not another word about their prisoner was said as they got everything ready to go. Nathan carefully packed up his doctor’s bag, placing it beside JD’s head as he slipped in beside his patient in the wagon. He’d keep JD on enough opiate to make sure he didn’t feel a single rut on the ride home, and a lantern swung from the wagon frame, lighting the patient enough to see him keep breathing.

“Right fine bag you got yourself there, Doc,” Buck called, grinning ear to ear. Man could bounce back like a spring doll. Once he convinced himself JD’d live, he was back to his old self. “But didn’t your mama tell you not to open your presents early?”

“I’m afraid I am to blame for that faux pas, Mr. Wilmington,” Ezra put in. Vin wondered what the hell a fopa was—probably another one of Ezra’s made up words. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Buck looked down at JD breathing away and Vin could see the contentment in his eyes—and the knowledge of what could have happened to all of them if that particular present hadn’t been opened. Losing JD just didn’t bear thinking on.

“This mean I get my present early this year?” Buck asked, grinning at Ezra as Josiah got the wagon underway. Parker was tied to the back of it, and Vin had Peso wander back to keep an eye on him in the uncertain light of the moon.

“Why, Mr. Wilmington,” Ezra replied. “I hardly meant for this to become a yearly event.”

“Didn’t figure you’d be around for a year anyway, Ezra,” Chris said, flat, but they all could hear the smile in his voice. Even Ezra.

“Yes, well, I am as surprised as any of you,” Ezra shot back. “As such, I do not see the need to continue to lavish attention on you all as your natal anniversaries approach.”

Buck snorted. “You’re too greedy for that, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Nathan added, one hand resting lightly on JD’s chest as they trundled along. “You better be good to us, or who knows what you’ll get for your own birthday.”

“I bet JD’d still buy him a present,” Vin responded.

Ezra grinned. “I expect Mr. Dunne would at that.” He sighed. “I suppose, then, that I must reciprocate.”

“So I _do_ get my present early this year, then!”

“Mr. Wilmington….”

Vin smiled as his friends continued to give each other a hard time. Fighting like brothers every chance they got—all seven of them. He looked ahead to the wagon, watching JD breathe.

 

Two days later, six men gathered around the bed in Nathan’s clinic, shot glasses in their hands. Their seventh lay quietly, having finally learned to breathe with a tube in his chest. JD still had to work up energy and breath to talk, but at least he was awake and healing.

“To Nathan,” Buck announced. “A good friend and a damn fine surgeon!”

“To Nathan!” Six glasses were raised, six shots downed. Nathan put his glass on the table next to him and smiled.

“Still can’t believe y’all done that for me.”

JD snorted then whined a little in his throat. “Can’t believe you done that for me, either.”

“Like I said, boys,” Buck offered, grinning ear to ear. “Gotta give him the tools to keep us all kicking.”

“Well he is certainly capable of that,” Ezra replied, meeting Nathan’s eyes. “Of that there can be no doubt.”

“Hey Nathan,” JD asked weakly. “How old are you?”

Nathan opened his mouth to answer, but Buck stopped him, his eyes shiny with mischief. “Wait, wait! Let’s let Ezra tell us.” He smirked, and Vin suddenly knew his game. “I’ll bet he can’t guess.”

Buck knew full well Ezra knew exactly how old Nathan was, but none of the three of them had told anyone else about Ezra’s business deal with the judge.

“I bet he can’t.” Nathan said, taking the bait. Normally, Vin’d say Nathan was right. He had that kind of face about him—could be younger than him or as old as Buck. You just couldn’t tell.

“Gambling, Mr. Jackson? On your birthday?” He shot Buck a dirty look. “Hardly wise.”

“I never bet against a sure thing,” Josiah answered. “Ezra is an extremely observant man.”

“I’ll take the bet,” Chris said. Vin grinned at him. Sucker.

“Me, too,” JD whispered. “I’m in.”

Ezra looked at all of them, shaking his head, and then looked at Nathan for a long moment, as if he was really trying to guess his age. He finally sighed.

“I fear I cannot hazard a guess, gentlemen,” he finally said. “Mr. Jackson’s visage is younger than his gaze and the dichotomy is too perplexing even for me.”

“Well now, that ain’t fair!” Buck argued, though one look at Ezra’s quiet face should’ve told him he was holding a losing hand. “You can’t just not guess!”

Chris must’ve read the warning in Vin’s eyes earlier. “If the man don’t want to play your game, you can’t make him, Buck.”

“Yeah, Buck,” JD whispered. “Why don’t you guess?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Vin offered meanly, enjoying the show. “You started this.”

Buck groused a minute, but stared at Nathan gamely for a minute. “Thirty-five!”

Nathan coughed out the second shot he’d poured himself. “Thirty-five!”

 Josiah patted him on the back. “I think you’ve just been insulted, my friend.”

“Thirty-five!” Nathan looked up at Vin. “Do I look thirty-five to you!?”

  
He just shrugged. Hell, depending on the day, Nathan looked anywhere from twenty-five to forty-five. How was Vin supposed to know?

At least he knew his own birthday now, he thought, as the discussion raged happily around him. And he had people to celebrate it with now, too.

Six brothers. Six birthdays to keep track of and make much of. Wasn’t bad for an orphan kid who hadn’t even known how old _he_ was until his brothers figured it out for him.

He grinned, watching Buck back pedal, trying to figure out whether he’d called Nathan too young or too old. He was just digging himself deeper.

What the hell would he get for Buck _this_ year?

“All’s I’m saying, Nathan, is… You got wisdom beyond your years…” Buck was reaching now.

Shovel, maybe…?

 

* * *  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> The argument about Nathan's birthday comes about because I just watched "The Trial," where Obediah tells us clearly that 19 years ago, Nathan was 7. Which threw me for a loop, because it makes him younger than the Ezra and Vin I've put in this series (32 and 28, respectively). It also makes him an insanely young fourteen as a stretcher bearer if he joined in the war toward the end. Which he totally could have been, just... I figured he'd be older than Ezra, who was 16 when he entered the war toward the beginning. Ah well, my bad! :)


End file.
